Never Have I Ever
by Kadyn
Summary: Of all the things Peter expect of her, all the secrets he had learned, nothing had ever thrown him the way that this had. Olivia & Peter Smut Biscuit!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own um, Darn shame that! : (

**Never have I ever**

**Chapter One**

_Fringe_

Olivia Dunham's Apartment

748pm Friday

"Come in!"

Olivia's voice filtered to him through her closed door at his knock. He opens it ready to chastise her about inviting strangers into her apartment when he catches sight of her from the living room and the words die on his tongue.

Peter Bishop's FBI Partner, one deliciously forbidden Olivia Dunham is dressed in dark wash jeans that cling to her curves in all the right places, and the black tank she wears shows off far more skin then he's used to seeing in a normal day with her, making his heart race.

Of course that was kinda the point of tonight; not to work, to relax and kickback.

They'd managed to make it a loose tradition over the last 4 months, meeting like this after a case was closed or on a quiet evening when they weren't out chasing monsters.

God knows neither of them got out enough between work and….well, work. (and Walter-sitting) Peter silently reminded himself; there was a full time occupation if there ever was one. Dating had been out of the question for Peter for longer then he wanted to really analyze and since he really didn't need any excuse to want to see more of his gorgeous partner when she'd half heartedly mentioned a movie night months ago Peter had practically foamed at the mouth.

Anything to see more of her; especially _This _part of her; the part that relaxed around him a little; and smiled more often and more genuinely when he cracked jokes. Peter thought it made their working relationship better as well; they knew each other so well by now that Peter could almost anticipate anything Olivia need to tell him in the Field; and she'd relaxed enough around him that Peter was starting to wonder if maybe there might be a small chance for something more between them.

He'd fantasized about her often enough; he would jump at a chance to make his dreams a reality, any chance.

He'd take whatever he could get from his sexy and pragmatic partner; as much as she was willing to give; Which is what had brought tonight's particular activities to mind when Peter had heard the rain pounding against his window when he exited the shower earlier that night.

There was no way either of them really wanted to drag themselves out of her apartment and into a taxi in the pouring rain to visit their normal bar hangout.

And If Peter played his cards right he could potentially uncover far more information about the private life of One Olivia Dunham at home in a more familiar setting when she was relaxed then he could when they were out on the town and she still remained guarded to their surroundings if not as much to him as she used to be. Peter loved those little glimpses when they came; the snapshots of what life might be like with her; what she liked to eat; her favorite music; where she liked to visit, or go to relax; he'd snatch every morsel of information from the end of her fingers and hungrily await more.

Leaving the Entryway of Olivia's apartment having nudged the door shut with his boot and hearing it click Peter approached the coffee table to set down his bag of goodies eyes never leaving the visage of his Partner half visible across the apartment. She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, no doubt expecting that despite the torrential weather they would follow the same pattern they had on previous occasions and head to Mickies for dinner and a beer, maybe some pool or darts.

Tonight though; Peter had a different game for them to play.

Finally abandoning the mirror over her dresser and heading towards the living room Olivia grinned upon seeing him. Eyeing the bag he'd set on the table she quirked one eyebrow at him in question.

"Don't know if you noticed, but it's raining cats and dogs out there."

"So you brought over supplies to build an Ark?"

Peter grinned at her, pleased that she was in a relaxed and playful mood. It used to take an hour or two of them hanging out before she would relax this much around him; now it seemed the second he stepped through her door she let some of the weight off her shoulders and relaxed; at least for a little while.

"Close" Dropping one hand into the bag Peter pulled out the first box and presented it to her.

"Battleship?" Olivia laughed.

"And," Peter held up a hand to stall her "Chinese food."

"Is there Beer in that bag?"

Peter did his best to look wounded. "Is there beer in the bag." Pulling out the last thing in the bag and the heaviest he tilted it towards her for inspection.

Not bad Olivia mused; the same bottled beer they usually got on tap at Mickies, he must have stopped special to pick it up. "So We're staying in to practice Naval Warfare tactics"

"Never know when they might come in handy; maybe you can sink my battleships with your mind"

"Ha ha." Olivia left with the beer for the kitchen returning with two already cold beers though not of the same brand and set them on the coffee table settling herself against the couch cushions as Peter began popping open Chinese containers and chopsticks.

_Fringe_

11:30pm

Six Beers, Lo Mein, and several games later Olivia had slid to the floor between the coffee table and the sofa and Peter was sprawled opposite her, back propped to the armchair making mindless conversation about anything that comes to mind. The rain still pelted the living room window but the two agents were nearly oblivious to its steady hum by now.

"E6"

Olivia Frowned grabbing another peg from the sideboard and placing it on her board. "You're cheating; you have to be!"

"Never have I ever; Cheated at a Board Game." Peter cocked an eyebrow at her.

Without saying a word Olivia raised her beer and took a swig. Peter leered at her in triumph.

"Oh Really?"

"Well I definitely have, how else am I supposed to beat a freaking genius?" Peter's shoulders roll in silent laughter at her put upon voice. Craning his head to the right around his board he asks "Are your battleships are even on the board?"

Shoving him with one hand back towards the setae and tilting her game board away from him Olivia laughs. "There on the board, you keep sinking them!"

"Maybe you should cheat harder," Peter is laughing again and his grin is infectious.

"Maybe I should use my mind control to make you think I'm winning."

"That's how you play the game my dear,"

"Well, Never have I ever Beaten my partner five times in a row"

Peter took a swig, and then another while she laughed out loud.

1:05 am

"I am not answering that!"

Olivia is laughing again, and Peter can't remember how many Beers he's had, was it 8 or 9? He' knows Olivia's had a fair few; not as many as him but close she's no slouch when it comes to drinking and he's brought their favorite beer on purpose.

"Don't blame me I didn't invent the game! You can't play without asking strange questions."

"Fine." Olivia took a swig and set the empty bottle on the coffee table, pulling herself up to grab another from the fridge.

"You want?" She called over her shoulder as she padded barefoot into the kitchen.

Peter watched her go, fascinated by the way the denim clung to the fantastic curve of her ass. Mouth suddenly dry he swallowed several times before answering. Oh he wanted all right, just not what she was offering exactly.

When Olivia returned with another frosted beer bottle Peter gratefully accepted it as his consolation prize as she slid into the armchair behind him instead of returning to her regular seat across from him.

"Hey, Now you can really see my board"

"I thought we were playing a new game?" Her voice is playful and relaxed; teasing almost and Peter feels his groin tighten in response.

A heady mixture of too much alcohol and overly close Olivia proximity, when her fingers drop to touch his shoulders he nearly freezes then remembers that he has to stay relaxed so that she will. Olivia can detect tension like an earthquake meter reads seismic activity; and when her thumbs press into his neck muscles and draw slow circles almost mindlessly that is the last thing he wants.

"Never have I ever gotten a happy ending massage." The words are out of his mouth before he thinks about them, and Peter holds his breath expecting her to pull away from him and tell him to leave.

"Ha, I don't believe that for a minute," she scoffs at him, her fingers still working at his shoulders and the small part of Peter's brain that isn't spinning wildly out of control at what this might all mean wonders how much beer they've really had.

_Fringe_

3:15 am

"Never Have I ever _deflowered_ someone."

Olivia is practically poured into the armchair now, one leg thrown haphazardly over the armrest the last of her latest beer held loosely in one hand. She gives him a triumphant look over the coffee table where he's now sprawled on the couch after getting them the last beers in the fridge, the rain has stopped outside and Peter's sure it must be edging towards 3am, not that he cares one bit.

Somehow the latest game seems to have boiled down to who can make the other finish this last beer faster, and She expects that she has gotten him with this one.

And she has, Peter looks put-upon as he takes a sip, trying to savor this night as long as he can.

They are both barely drinking now, only sipping in the pretense of continuing this teasing banter back and forth like two teenagers.

"Who was it?" She asks; as they've been doing; no longer is it simply yes or no questions; now they are elaborating on them as well. He's not sure how that got started exactly.

"High school, some girl at a party. I don't even remember her name, probably makes me kind of a bastard." He shrugs one shoulder almost apologetically.

"Just the one time?"

Peter gives her an odd look. "I thought that was the definition, or am I missing something?" He was after all quite certain that he was sliding heavily towards drunk.

Olivia rolls her eyes at him. "I mean just one girl, I'd have figured with girls throwing themselves at you left and right it had to be more than one…"

"Girls do not throw themselves at me left and right." Peter scoffed.

"and In my experience virgins have no idea what they're doing and it's not worth it. They can't even give a decent blowjob." Peter could have smacked himself were they really having this conversation?

She'd probably kill him tomorrow morning.

Olivia went very still. "Never have I ever had any Complaints."

To Be Continued….

_Fringe_

And It's already written so it's only a matter of proof reading to take care of,

the Muse Liked this one, Oh Boy did she ever! O_o


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own them but I can borrow them right? : 3

Please Note! We're headed into M category stuff her Peeps; so if that's not your thing and you somehow found yourself on this story by mistake you should back out now! The rest of you? On we Go! xD

**Chapter Two**

* * *

><p><em>"Girls do not throw themselves at me left and right." Peter scoffed. <em>

_ "and In my experience Virgins have no idea what they're doing and it's not worth it. They can't even give a decent blowjob." _

_Peter could have smacked himself were they really having this conversation? __She'd probably kill him tomorrow morning._

_Olivia went very still. _

_"Never have I ever had any Complaints."_

Peter froze.

When you work with the impossible everyday you think you're seen it all, that nothing can surprise you and then suddenly it hits you out of left field, POW it clocks you at 100 miles an hour and your world is spinning and in that instant you know that this is it; and you can never go back to the way you used to be.

With the rush of air leaving his lungs Peter realizes that this is that moment.

Bam. Pow. Whack. His world is spinning, tilting threatening to fall off its axis, Tumble out of control.

"No Way." The words make it past his lips he thinks; he's not sure his brain's neurons are still stuttering; still flummoxed and completely wrapped up in trying to digest the words she just said.

_Not possible….not possible…._

Any second now that serious expression is going to slide off her face, he knows. She's going to grin or laugh outright; tossing her head back and having a great laugh with him because she's finally thrown him for a loop and she must know it.

She must be joking because if she's not…Peter's brain slams to a halt again. Total mental shutdown.

_She was sleeping with John…and that other agent from out of town…wasn't she? _

Peter acutely remembers the slick coating of jealously that overtook him every time he thought she'd found her way into another man's bed…._was it_ _possible…?_ A part of him that very probably might be suicidal has to know.

"You were sleeping with John." It's not a question, but she rebukes it anyway.

"We were intimate, yes, but I wasn't 'sleeping' with him as your defining it."

"No way." 180 IQ and she's reduced him to two word sentences in his shock.

Part of him registers that she doesn't flinch when she says John's name. The rest of him is so tied in knots he can barely process when she sets her beer on the coffee table and slides from the armchair to cross the room. When she slinks closer to grab his own beer taking a pull from it before setting it on the table beside her own. Peter continues to lie back against the couch watching her in utter disbelief unable to wrap his head around the puzzle she's just handed him.

It was like someone had just told him Gravity didn't exist.

It's when she kneels beside the couch and reaches for his belt buckle that Peter is prompted to action, though not the bravado he would have thought if he had imagined this scenario himself; and imagine it he had; just not like this. God never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine what she was implying...

Scooting up to an almost sitting position against the couch, elbows still propped behind him Peter continues to watch her face completely transfixed.

He tried to speak as she unzipped his jeans, and pulled them open displaying a patch of skin beneath.

"What are you Doing?"

His voice is rough and scratchy; heavy and thick like his tongue which should be saying something more; should be questioning this; stopping this instead he feels her hands against his skin, reach for him and his eyes slam closed against the sensation of her palm against his flesh, dipping inside his jeans to find him already swollen and hard straining against the fabric that confines him.

"I thought that was pretty obvious Peter," Olivia meets his gaze and Peter's sure he must be dreaming this. Surely their game ended hours ago and he's passed out on Olivia's couch and dreaming this and he needs to wake up before he embarrasses himself.

When she pulls him from his jeans and uses her other hand to shift his pants farther down his hips, gently stroking the length of him against her palm Peter's head falls back and he thinks he may have groaned he's not so sure with the alcohol, and the dreaming, and Jesus Christ if this is a dream it's the most vivid one he's ever experienced.

Peter thrusts up into her hand as she pumps across his flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Bringing her other hand to cup his balls, gently lifting them and working them between her fingers as he falls back onto the cushions unable to fight the waves of sinful pleasure his Partner's hand is working from his body.

She plays his body like a musical instrument, to a tune that they both seem to privately know, and he gasps and moans to it, fisting his hands in the couch to keep from grabbing her and ripping her clothes off.

"Olivia…" He calls to her desperately just as he feels a different kind of heat envelope him and this time he arches of the couch unable to stop himself feeling the heat of her mouth close around him, her tongue trailing over the same path her fingers had just taken.

He bucks as she drops down over him; still gently massaging the rest of him while her other now free hand grips his hip in a possessive manner, like she's afraid he's going to try to get away.

How anyone could want to get away from that mouth though Peter has no earthly idea.

He's died and gone to heaven. When her mouth leaves him for a moment he's certain that she's done, that she's finished her demonstration and he would have to admit (if he could properly form words let alone sentences) that she's right. But she doesn't leave him, she rises up to straddle his legs on the couch and Dips her head to take him in again from this new angle as he watches now transfixed and unable to look away.

He's found perfection buried in his partners mouth as she lowers herself over him again taking him all the way in to the base and he can feel her throat working him as her tongue slides across him again as she raises up and it's too much; too fast and still it's not enough…

Peter finds his fingers grasping at her. Reaching to fist and tangle in her hair as she takes him in once more, to a symphony of her name on his tongue, unconsciously helping her find the rhythm that he so desperately needs.

Following his silent instruction Olivia takes him in and works him with her hands and throat following his fingers as the bunch and tangle in her hair as Peter thrashes and moans beneath her, he's so close, so close….

"Olivia, back off!" He tries to warn her but she just sinks onto him again and he can feel her closing her throat around him once more and then she does something he does not expect at all.

She purrs around him as she caresses him and the vibrations against his skin it's more than he can take and he's suddenly pumping into her throat recklessly and calling her name as he empties himself into her over and over as the world spins around him and almost fades to black and he thinks that maybe in his distraction he might have forgotten how to breathe.

When He's done he lays there in shock as Olivia works him up and down once more riding the last few aftershocks with him making him jump and groan before she lets him slide from her mouth.

Peter stares at her as she meets his gaze, still straddled over his legs. He wants to freeze time and memorize the way she looks right now, forever. With her dark hooded eyes, and tousled hair; her swollen pink lips and flushed cheeks. The way her chest heaves as she breaths and her tank top gaps just so as he gets the perfect view between the valley of her breasts.

"livia…" words still seem to fail him but she smiles at him anyway, and if he thought the view was good before it's fucking to die for now.

"I Win." Peter's head falls back against the couch cushions at her words as a low chuckle escapes him.

"You Win, Sweetheart."

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be Continued…<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them but I'm going to test drive them anyway! : D

**Chapter Three**

"_I Win." _

_Peter's head falls back against the couch cushions at her words as a low chuckle escapes him._

"_You Win, Sweetheart." _

He reaches down before she can move from her place and catches her under the elbows pulling her up his body to straddle his waist and his half hard erection still throbbing against the empty air at the mere sight of her, and the memory of what that amazing mouth that's smiling at him just did.

"What can I get you for your prize, hmm?"

He lets his hands trail up her arms and down her back, pulling her pelvis against his to grind one thigh between her legs just so until she gasps and grips his biceps.

"Can I kiss you?" He feels like he should ask even after what she's done to him.

When she whispers her answer against his lips he cannot help himself; he consumes her.

Twists himself around her arms and legs and teeth and tongue. He's going to swallow her whole, eat her alive especially when she gasps into his mouth and makes that mewling sound as his hands caress her back pressing her further into him…but it's not enough, God it could never be enough….He flips her somehow without dropping them both onto the floor. Pinning her beneath him so that he has her pressed into the couch and she melds against every inch of him as their mouths tangle together and he tastes her and him on his tongue and it's the most fucking erotic thing he thinks he's ever tasted, him and Olivia together.

He will never get over how good she feels underneath him rocking her hips against him and he feels like a horny teenager all over again and the feeling un-nerves him and lights his senses on fire all at once.

"Olivia, Let me touch you?"

He wants this so bad his whole body is shaking and he's sure that she can feel it the way they're pressed together. The realization that Olivia, his gorgeous sexy pragmatic Olivia is not only a Virgin but that she is allowing him to touch her like this, is the most humbling thing Peter has ever experienced.

He wants to do nothing to hurt her, he only wants to worship her in any way that she will let him.

With a start Peter realizes that he's more than nervous, he's afraid that he will mess this up somehow.

But then she's pressing her mouth to his again and she's telling him yes, to touch her; please touch her as she undoes the top button on her own jeans; perhaps sensing his hesitation; they have gotten so much better at reading each other without words.

And Peter is once again distracted from thought by the fresh view of skin now available to him, mimicking her earlier actions he moves down her body to the waistband of her jeans where her tank has ridden up with their movements Peter places his mouth to the skin there feeling her jump and gasp as his tongue darts across her hip bone, letting his mouth explore this new expanse of Olivia skin that coats his senses with the tempting sweetness and erotic flavor that is hers and hers alone.

Popping the remaining buttons on her jeans Peter hooks his fingers through the belt loops on either side of her hipbones and skates the material down over her legs, exposing more luscious Olivia skin. His hands skim down her calves and he reaches to grasp her left knee bending it up to press kisses to the inside skin there while he slides her pant leg free letting him place one of her legs on the floor spreading her for his perusal. She watches him silently and it's got to be one of the most erotic situations he's ever found himself in; gazing on her perfect body still partially hidden from him by the peek-a-boo creamy lace that still covers her sex.

He considers taking these off too but stops himself; unsure if she will let him, and afraid to ask incase she changes her mind and stops him all together.

Peter hikes his own jeans back to a more comfortable position and lowers himself to his belly between her knees, his own knees bent behind him ankles crossed as he drinks her in with his eyes from this new angle lazily allowing one hand to trail up the leg he's positioned on the floor to make room for himself against her on the couch. His mouth soon follows his hand tracing the same trail up first one leg, and then down the other as she moans and thrusts her hips towards him in obvious invitation.

Peter follows up by pressing soft open mouthed kisses just at the juncture of her hips mesmerized now by the way her own fingers clutch the cushions edge her other hand trailing through his hair as she presses her hips up to meet this new assault with a soft sigh.

"Peter, you can touch me" her whisper is soft and breathy as he places a few more kisses just outside the lace that covers her most sensitive of places, still unsure; unlike his erection throbbing once more in need trapped beneath him.

His hand trails up her leg again to ghost over the lace covering her and this time when her hips rock towards him it's with a gasp and a moan of his name as she shakes before him head thrown back. And he thinks that if such a feather touch can make her shake like that, and gasp his name; what will she do when he's got her taste on his lips, and his tongue inside her?

He needs to find out, every nerve in his body burns with the need. Slowly lowering his head to the lace covering her still, helping him keep his sanity intact; Peter lets his tongue trace over the heat he finds there. Snaking his arms out to wrap around her hips when she bucks against him once more her back arching off the couch at his touch.

He laps at her in earnest, tracing patterns over her skin through the long soaked silken fabric. Sucking against her entrance, and circling her clit with his lips, pressing against her, running his teeth over her there; while she grinds against him and thrashes in his hold and he bathes in the wash of sounds that echo through her chest as she cries out each new sensation. Gasps each new touch into the room, moans his name and squirms against him one leg now over his shoulder so that he can keep her as close as possible to his questing mouth.

She's salty sweet against his tongue, and molten lava against his senses and still it's not enough; dipping his fingers beneath the edge of her ruined undergarment Peter traces his fingers over her smooth skin again; letting her pooling wetness slide against his fingers as he caresses her entrance with two fingertips, testing her reactions to this new sensation as she thrusts against his mouth still devouring her clit.

"Peter," his name slides out on a moan as his fingers slide over her entrance again nearly scorched by the heat radiating from her core as she bucks against him almost driving him into her depths.

"Off," She impatiently reaches for the waistband of her own panties when he doesn't seem to get the message and Peter moves to grasp her hands pinning them against her own skin. He presses his forehead to her thigh with a few ragged breathes to steady himself again- an almost impossible task with the scent of Olivia sex in the air and the taste of her heady arousal already on his tongue.

It would be all too easy to let her shuck this last barrier and dive inside her but Peter is clinging to the last semblances of his self control. But he's not sure how much more of an assault against his self control he can take as his cock throbs in time with the heartbeat roaring in his ears, painfully swollen as he unconsciously grinds himself down into the friction of his own jeans and the couch cushions once more.

"Olivia," His voice is a growl against her skin and he can't help his teeth sliding across her to leave the barest of marks against her as his fingers press into her hips possessively.

He dips one hand again to the juncture of her sex, dipping beneath the lace to slide his fingers over her heat, letting first one press ever so carefully against her sliding through the molten layers of flesh that squeeze and spasm at his entrance as Olivia's back arches and he brings his mouth to her clit once more nipping and sucking against her.

He slides his finger back to add another to this achingly slow invasion of her body, slowly tracing against her entrance again with this new appendage before dipping inside her; feeling her body clamp down on him as she rocks against him. Gasping his name on each breath and moaning for more; please more, as he pumps his fingers inside her grasping the lace crotch of her panties and twisting them aside to let his tongue slide over her folds, circling her clit and pressing his attention there, as his fingers continue to work more of the delicious nectar that is hers and hers alone from her core.

Drawing his sex soaked fingers back to gaze at the view spread out before him once more Peter catches Olivia's eyes as she watches him through heavy lashes. He's fascinated by the way her breath catches as she watches him raising his fingers to his mouth and sucking the traces of her flavor off of them reveling in the taste of her, all sweet and salty and heaven mixed with the beer against his tongue.

"You taste so fucking good."

Before she can respond his mouth is against her once more, this time it's his tongue that stabs into her parting her flesh and drinking her in as his fingers circle her clit as she bucks against his mouth, trembling against him as her back arches and with a few harsh flicks of his thumb and a few fingers added to the assault his tongue is staging against her core she shatters above him, around him, through him.

Peter can feel her release all the way to his toes, as she bucks against his mouth, convulsing and shaking as wave after wave of orgasm brings more delicious Olivia essence to his tongue, as his fingers press against her spasming walls, rocking against her G spot just so and sending another fresh set of sensations rocketing out into her epicenter to join her orgasm.

He laps at her until he feels her start to come back down to him; her breath ragged and throaty as her fingers curl in his hair. Peter lets his fingers slip from her heat and presses soft kisses against her hip and thigh before ghosting a trail up her abdomen, pausing to dip his tongue into her belly button and trace his fingers over her ribs, testing the softness of the skin there against his own.

When he reaches her neck he places another kiss against her collar bone, and just below her ear whispering to her how fucking unbelievably beautiful and erotic she is, and does she have any idea how she makes him feel, and what it's doing to him to touch her like this as her fingers twist in his rumpled hair and her mouth finds his and Peter finds himself once more pressed against her length with his tongue warring with her own and the taste of them together on his tongue and the soft moans she breaths into his kiss is better than any drug known to man.

This is his addiction right here, She has always been his brand of drug; but now that he's tasted her, felt her, heard her gasp and scream his name as she comes undone-he is lost.

There is no going back; not that Peter would ever want to. No, He knows without a doubt that he cannot go back to the way things have been between them, to do so would be suicide.

He can't live without her.

_~Fringe~**__~Fringe~_

**To be Continued**….Chapter Four is already partially written.

I'm considering this story Muse Rehab 101. Don't forget to do your part! Let the Muse know if you liked it! It boosts her ego and encourages her to doodle even more interesting suggestions in the margins. : )


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